Rebirth Swapped Bride; Married to the Ruthless Cursed Billionaire-Chapter 273: A trap

"Three glasses?"

Tiffany frowned, about to say something when Marie grabbed her arm.

"Don’t worry, Fanny," Marie said with a light laugh.

"You know I can hold my liquor."

The company had struggled for this opportunity—a shot at fame wasn’t easy to come by.

If three glasses were the price, so be it.

Editor Jade wore a helpless expression but couldn’t intervene.

"Director Jayden, this one’s for you," Marie raised her glass before downing it in one go.

"Two more to go."

Without hesitation, she refilled her glass from the bottle on the table and drank again.

Only after finishing the third did she finally set the cup down.

The alcohol hit Marie hard, painting her cheeks crimson in an instant.

"Impressive drinking skills," Jayden remarked with a sly smirk, raising another glass.

"Still letting someone else take this one for you, junior?"

His tone made it clear—he wasn’t about to let Tiffany off the hook.

Meeting his half-mocking gaze, Tiffany felt that familiar wave of disgust rise in her chest.

Right.

How could she have forgotten?

This man clung to his whims with near-obsessive persistence. If she refused, he’d never let it go.

"I’ll drink it!

Let me—" Marie blurted, already reaching for the glass again.

"No need."

Tiffany gently caught her wrist, her voice soft but firm.

"I’ll handle it."

In one swift motion, she downed the liquor and flipped the empty glass upside down, holding Jayden’s challenging stare.

"Now, shall we discuss the book?"

"Of course," Jayden replied, his lowered eyes flickering with hidden meaning for just an instant.

Calvin downed the rest of his drink in one go before launching into a detailed analysis of the book.

His critiques and suggestions were impressively professional, easing Tiffany’s nerves—at least a little.

Still, throughout the conversation, Jayden kept raising his glass in toasts.

Marie, determined to shield Tiffany, intercepted many of them and soon grew visibly drunk.

Unable to bear it, Tiffany had someone help her to a nearby sofa to rest.

The next few rounds of drinks Jayden offered, Tiffany drank herself. Her head grew heavier by the minute.

The VIP lounge was the epitome of opulence.

A slightly overweight foreign man in his fifties sat at the center, one arm draped around a sultry blonde in a tight red dress.

Surrounding him were several high-ranking executives from the Calvin Group.

As Calvin and Aria entered the room, all the senior executives of the Calvin Corporation rose to their feet in unison.

"President Calvin!"

"President Calvin—"

Calvin’s gaze settled on the slightly overweight middle-aged man at the forefront.

The man frowned slightly and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

*That foreigner insists on speaking only with President Calvin—doesn’t give a damn about the rest of us.*

Calvin’s expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of understanding passed through his eyes.

"Everyone, step out."

"Yes, sir!"

The executives exhaled in quiet relief and promptly withdrew, leaving only two personal bodyguards—equal in number to the foreigner’s own security—standing behind Calvin.

With a faint smirk, Calvin guided Aria to the opposite sofa and sat down, crossing his long legs with effortless grace.

His posture was relaxed, almost casual, yet exuded an innate air of aristocratic elegance.

"You’re far younger and more handsome than I imagined, President Calvin," the foreigner remarked in flawless Mandarin, his eyes appraising Calvin with an amused grin.

"What a promising young talent."

"Mr. Lucas is the epitome of grace and charm," Calvin murmured, his gaze softening as he looked at Aria. "Sweetheart, don’t you think so?"

The man’s deep, suggestive voice brushed against her ear, making Aria’s hand falter slightly as she poured the wine.

Her heartbeat quickened.

But she recovered swiftly.

"Absolutely," Aria replied, lifting her glass with practiced elegance and flashing Lucas a radiant smile.

"I’ve long admired your reputation.

This toast is for you, Mr. Lucas."

Her black high-waisted slit gown clung to her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure, while the fabric made her already porcelain skin glow even more delicately.

Waves of chestnut hair cascaded over one shoulder, framing her oval face, which was flushed with a coy allure.

Every inch of her exuded an intoxicating charm.

Men were visual creatures, and Lucas was no exception.

"Hahaha," he laughed, clinking his glass against hers before boldly letting his fingers linger on her hand—unapologetically savoring the contact.

"It’s an honor to be toasted by such a beautiful lady."

From the moment she entered, Lucas couldn’t take his eyes off the stunning woman Calvin had brought along.

Calvin observed Lucas’s reaction with an unchanged, faint smile curling at the corners of his lips.

Clearly, he couldn’t care less.

*Disgusting old lech.*

Aria frowned inwardly, biting back her revulsion.

But she dared not show her displeasure, so she subtly withdrew her hand as if by accident.

"I’ll drink first as a gesture of respect, Mr. Lucas. Please take your time."

With that, she downed her glass in one smooth motion.

"Impressive," Lucas remarked, matching her by draining his own drink before turning to Calvin with a grin.

"Where did you find such a charming companion, President Calvin?

Truly enviable."

The insinuation in his words was unmistakable.

Calvin picked up a cigarette, his long, elegant fingers bringing it to his thin lips before lighting it.

A slow, curling plume of pale gray smoke escaped his mouth, dissipating lazily into the air.

"It seems Mr. Lucas is quite taken with you," Calvin turned his head slightly toward Aria, offering a faint smile.

"Go keep him company for a few drinks."

His voice was gentle, yet the tone brooked no argument.

Moments like these always revealed the icy detachment at Calvin’s core.

Aria recoiled inwardly but dared not refuse.

"...Yes," She rose, painting a dazzling smile across her face as she settled beside Lucas.

"Mr. Lucas, let me pour your wine."

Every gesture was a carefully calculated performance.

Lucas, clearly reveling in the attention, wore an unshakable grin.

Meanwhile, Calvin lounged on the sofa, a cigarette between his lips.

Pale gray smoke curled languidly from his thin lips. His expression was indifferent, yet carried an elusive air of aristocratic allure.

Calvin remembered—Tiffany was an online writer. What kind of business could possibly be discussed in a place like this?

After being plied with several drinks by Aria, Lucas’s smile grew even more pronounced at the corners of his lips.

"Since Mr. Calvin is so generous, I can’t afford to be stingy either," he murmured, glancing down meaningfully at the foreign woman nestled in his arms.

"Annie, why don’t you go keep Mr. Calvin company?"

The woman in the red dress turned her gaze toward Calvin, clearly awaiting his response.

Leaning back casually on the sofa, Calvin let his cigarette-holding hand rest lazily on the armrest, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Well then, I’d be a fool to refuse."

The moment Calvin agreed, a flicker of displeasure darted through Aria’s eyes, vanishing as quickly as it appeared.

The foreign woman in the tight red minidress rose and sauntered toward Calvin, her gaze bold and unapologetic.

An American man this handsome—she had never seen one before.

Truly breathtaking. What a shame.

At that thought, a cold glint flashed imperceptibly in Annie’s eyes.

"Mr. Calvin, let me pour you a drink," she purred.